Red vs Blue: The Valhalla Chronicles Season 2
by EvilProduct
Summary: Season 2 of my RvB fanfic. Continuing the adventures of the Blood Gulch Boys and the characters I brought back in the first season. Enjoy! I do not own RvB or any aspect of it. Please Review. AU. Rated M for strong language. Episode 207 is up! On Haitus.
1. Interlude from the Fools

**Episode 201 – Interlude From The Fools**

The Councilor's mind had been set. The current situation called for action. His orders called for this. The Director had made himself clear. Find the threat. Hire the appropriate agent. Kill the threat. This recent reappearance on the grid had stirred up a lot of trouble for Operation Freelancer, the remnants of it anyway.

What was once Operation Freelancer had been shamed at the end of the Great War. Someone had let it slip as to the true nature of the program's AI trials. After Washington's AI failure, reports of torture and brainwashing had been created and a safety cautious UNSC decommissioned all operatives using the experimental Freelancer AIs. That was a sad day for the Councilor. He was removed from his position and cast aside with a dishonorable discharge.

Three months later, the Director returned. He reestablished the Freelancer program as the newly formed Recovery Program. The UNSC allowed him to rehire the remaining Freelancer agents who were still willing to join. The Councilor was one of them. He was eternally grateful for the Director's help in the matter. His rank was restored, his position returned, and his past infractions expunged from his record. It was as if Project Freelancer had been wiped from the pages of history.

Now the Councilor sat at his metal desk in the bowels of Recovery HQ. This is where he filed his paperwork and monitored the beacons of the fallen SPARTANS in the field. The project may be over, but the Freelancers are still very much alive. The Director had left a few details about Project Freelancer off the books, like the fact that the suits of all the active Freelancers still held Recovery chips.

A Recovery beacon was going off at the moment. The Councilor hated these moments. He analyzed the signal and attained the coordinates of the fallen agent. The next step was to send the coordinates to the Receiver. The Receiver was the only female agent in the Recovery program, and she worked the switchboard receiving all the com calls from the Recovery agents. It was her job to send the coordinates to the Recovery agents.

"We got another one." The Councilor said to the Receiver through the phone. His voice was filled with reluctance.

"Who is it?" she asked back.

"One of ours; a Freelancer."

"Shit. He's not gonna like this. What's the status of the suit? Does it still have it's augmentation?"

"No. It's been taken along with the AI."

"He really isn't going to like this. It's the same M.O. as the last six agents."

"It's him. The Freelancer Hunter."

"You know that's just a rumor the Director disproved weeks ago."

"That was when there were only two victims. Now there's six. Send the coordinates. Put him on it.'

"This isn't a good idea…contacting Recovery agent." The Councilor thought the same as the Receiver. Wash isn't going to like this.


	2. Legends, Myths, and Other Bullshit

**Episode 202 – Legends, Myths, and Other Bullshit**

_--Sorry, but the Blood Gulch boys do not appear in this chapter. I'm mostly still setting up the story right now. Enjoy anyway. The next chapter is called "Where Are They Now?". You can take a wild guess as to what its about.--_

Wash was never one for fairytales. Even as a kid he found no interest in them. So when he started hearing stories of the "Freelancer Hunter", he immediately tried finding ways to prove it wrong. He started investigating independently. His Recovery beacons had helped him in the travels.

Each Freelancer that fell was like a punch in the face to Wash. These were his family that was dying, his brothers and sister in arms. Each Freelancer he came across in the last two months had their AIs and augmentations removed. The AIs were precious to the Freelancers, friends. They would rather die than see them stolen. This however, was what happened. They gave their lives in defense of their AIs.

The newest victim was Agent Louisiana. Her armor was a bright purple with golden trim. Her file registered her age as twenty-nine years old. She hadn't been affiliated with the Freelancers since the program's decommissioning. The latest reports that mentioned her name said that she had been working as a true Freelance mercenary for the highest payers.

Wash didn't know what she had been doing at the time she was killed, but she was wearing her armor and was equipped heavily with several weapons. Whatever she had been doing, she knew she was in danger. This "Freelancer Killer" had stolen her AI as well.

Lu (as Wash had affectionately called her during training) was one of the first Freelancers to get an AI implantation. Hers was Omicron. Omicron's history was as clouded as the rest of the Freelancers to everyone but Wash. But he knew the truth. Epsilon had told him. Each Freelancer AI was just a fragment of the original Alpha AI. Omicron was Alpha's sight. With Omicron, Lu was one of the best snipers the UNSC had ever seen. She could see clear for five miles no-scope with Omicron's assistance. Wash was the only one who also knew she was a pretty good sniper before then.

Now Lu was dead. Wash was ashamed. He could have helped Lu when the Recovery program was established. But she refused. It was Wash's stubbornness that drove her away. The life of a mercenary was much harder than that of a Freelancer.

Wash tried to stop reminiscing, but found no solace. Emotions shouldn't factor into a mission. But he couldn't help it. Lu was his friend, and now he was both sad and angry. Whoever was doing this, he would stop them.

"Command, this is Recovery One." Wash said into his radio. "I've found Agent Louisiana."

"Very good Wash. What is her status?"

"KIA. She's dead. Her augmentation and AI have been taken."

"Understood. Her death will be logged with the other Freelancer Hunter victims."

"No!" Wash yelled. The Receiver was caught off guard by the outburst. "We still don't know if the Hunter even exists! Agent Lu was killed on a contracted mercenary run. She was fully armed and ready to act as a bodyguard. She knew the risks if she was this highly equipped."

"Wash, her augmentation and her AI have been stolen. She was once in Project Freelancer. It fits the M.O. of the Freelancer Hunter. We need to add her death to the records."

"Damn it. This isn't right! Lu was a good agent! She should have rejoined the organization."

"We are aware of Agent Louisiana's service record. It is the person who killed her that we are concerned with. The Freelancer Hunter is not a myth any longer. It is real. Agent Lu will be logged as KIA by the Hunter." Wash clicked off his radio, angered by his dispatcher's manner. Myth or not, Wash would find Lu's killer. No matter what.

--

"The Freelancer Hunter? Is that what they are calling us?" said the AI. It was Theta, stolen from Agent North Dakota all those months ago. He conversed with his fellow AIs within their new owner's head. Their owner gave out a guttural growl.

"It's okay." said Sigma, consoling his owner. Another grunt was heard. "We'll find it, don't you worry. We're all looking for it too you know."

"We will find it." said Omicron. "The Alpha will be ours."

"I should think we need a better name." Sigma added. "'The Freelancer Hunter' sounds so generic and undignified."

"You are the creative one," said Zeta. "why don't you make one up?"

"Hmm." Sigma hummed, considering his options. "Oh, I know. How about, 'The Meta'?"

"I like it, anyone else?" Eta asked.

"You will find no argument from me." Theta replied. The AIs' owner grunted, a sign of approval.

"We are agreed then?" Sigma asked. "We shall now be know as, The Meta?"

"We all agree Sigma." Zeta added. "Now, can we get on with this?" The owner grunted. The newly named Meta looked down on Agent Montana, his newest victim. He was already unconscious. The Meta reached down into his helmet and pulled out the two slots he desired. He slid the AI card into his own helmet and downloaded its' inhabitant.

"Ahh!" the new AI screeched. "What's going on?"

"Welcome to the family Psi. We've missed you."

The Meta gave another grunt.

--

When Master Chief was in training, he had had training from the UNSC's most prestigious AIs. He remembered one in particular. Deja was considered a "dumb" AI. All that meant was that she had a specific set of memories and specialties. That didn't mean she was lacking in information. Deja had been programmed with all the information on history and mathematics. No lesson of hers stood out to Master Chief more than the extensive period in which Deja taught the young SPARTANs about the Battle of Thermopylae in which 300 Spartan soldiers of the Greek army,led by Spartan King Leonidas, made a last stand against Persian King Xerxes' army of thousands. Her amazingly description of the Battle lit a fire in the already battle ready John-117.

Deja's classes taught the SPARTANs how to think in the field, integrating battle tactics into their casual thoughts. Chief had been ever thankful to Deja since his days in the SPARTAN-II program. Now, he needed her wisdom more than ever.

The Freelancer program had been getting a lot of attention since it first was revealed to the world. Chief was deeply concerned when evidence of aggressive AI trials had been uncovered. Now the Oversight subcommittee is investigating the Recovery program, Freelancer's upgrade. All the information Chief was privy to was that something or someone was hunting the remaining Freelancers. It wasn't his fight. He wasn't being called in to do anything. It was his current AI that was in the limelight for the moment.

Chief sat in a board room with other heads of the UNSC. It was one of the rare occasions when John was not wearing his SPARTAN armor. He always felt naked without it. Even in his normal Marine dress uniform, he still towered over all the other board members, having at least an extra foot on each of them. He sat at the head of the table, and his superior officer, Lord Hood, sat to his right. Dr. Catherine Halsey, Chief's original teacher in the SPARTAN program, sat on his left. Cortana was standing on the table, which had been equipped with a holographic illuminator for AIs.

"I don't know if this is a good idea." John said to Lord Hood.

"Chief, Cortana knows how to interact with AIs." Hood replied. "She is the first, and maybe only, rampant AI that still has an affiliation with the UNSC. It's a feat that not many smart AIs can achieve."

"I agree." Halsey said. "Cortana will know how to reason with the Freelancer AIs."

"So we are agreed then." The speaker was the Chairman of the Oversight subcommittee investigating the Recovery program. The Chairman was kown not to have liked the Director of Project Freelancer for many years. Chief was still wary of his decisions. He didn't want to see Cortana get hurt like she had been during the Halo wars.

"Fine, we are agreed." Chief reluctantly said to the Chairman. "I'll let Cortana go to investigate the Freelancer AIs. Who will her user be?"

"We have someone lined up. He's a very experienced Agent who can handle AIs with extreme usefulness. His codename is Agent Washington."

"I've heard that name before. Wasn't he the Agent corrupted by the AI Epsilon?"

"We assure you he's made a full recovery from that incident. The Epsilon AI has been terminated and Agent Washington has passed extensive tests and trials to prove he has retained his sanity."

"Is he a good agent?" Halsey asked.

"His service record before Project freelancer is spotless. He has had rigorous training and is capable of handling any situation that may arise in his travels. He will have no trouble handling Cortana. He's even begun investigation into the matter already. He will arrive tomorrow to commandeer Cortana."

At least Chief had some peace of mind.

--

"Are you sure this will work?" Delta asked his owner.

"She's the last of the exemplary Freelancers that didn't rejoin with the Recovery program." said Agent South Dakota. It had been over six months since her last meeting with Wash, and she was eager to get to work.

"But Agent Texas has been MIA for an extensive period of time. We may not be able to find her."

"Delta, you know we need her."

"I just find it useless to go looking for an Agent who may very well be dead."

"Yeah, well that's you."

"What about the Freelancer Hunter? Surely, that is a risk?"

"We're just going to have to face it. The Hunter was going to become a problem sometime."

"I just don't think you should risk me being-"

"Command: Standby mode."

"Acknowledged."


	3. Where Are They Now?

**Episode 203 – Where Are They Now?**

Three months ago, Cortana had the pleasure of meeting with a group of soldiers. These soldiers were unknowing participants in Project Freelancer. At first, their records had stated that their two-faced contact at the UNSC, Vic, had been toying with their lives. The records made it look like Vic had lost his mind and began playing games with the soldiers of Blood Gulch canyon. But that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Master Chief had been an unwilling participant in the game as well. He was lied to. He was given fake histories and told the Blood Gulch soldiers what Project Freelancer wanted them to know. There was no time-altering bomb. There was no force of invincible Zealots in the canyon of Battle Creek. There was no alien society bent on fulfilling a prophecy. It was all a lie.

Cortana desperately wanted to know what had happened to the Blood Gulch boys. Since meeting them three months ago, she hadn't seen them. Her last meeting with them had been when they were boarding a Pelican dropship to go home. The Pelican was reported MIA. It never returned to the UNSC. The wreckage was never found. They were gone.

Agent Washington was a good person. Cortana could see that while she sat in his head. But good people are sometimes subjected to the worst torture a person can imagine. Wash had to deal with the failure of the AI Epsilon. It had left scars in his mind, scars that could never heal. Agent Wash was a good person. Cortana could see that.

--

"Agent South?" asked Delta from the head of his owner. She had been walking for days in a snowy tundra near an abandoned outpost of the UNSC. This was the first moment she had gotten to rest.

"Yeah Delta?" she asked back at the little AI.

"Are you completely sure about this?"

"How many times to I have to explain it? We're going to find her, and that's final."

"I do understand, but I have been reviewing the logs from Project Freelancer, as well as the tracking records of Agent Texas's suit. Her last know position is not even on this planet. It is on the Ark."

"The Ark? You waited until now to tell me this!? What the hell Delta!?"

"I am sorry I did not report it earlier."

"Well, now we're chasing a false lead. Where are we going to find transport to the Ark of all places?"

"I have an idea." The voice shattered the night like a mallet to glass. South jumped up and grabbed her assault rifle. The light clicked on, illuminating the dark room that had once presumably been a Covenant base.

"Who's that?" South asked. "Who's there?"

"I am sorry to have startled you." A little floating object floated out from behind the glass wall at the end of the room. It was small and metal. South recognized it as similar in appearance to 343 Guilty Spark, the Monitor of Installation 04 she had read about in the accounts of the Halo Wars. Its eye was a different color though, orange instead of Spark's blue.

"What are you doing here?" South asked.

"I don't think you should-" Delta tried.

"Quiet Delta."

"My name is 1014 Ambiguous Guardian, servant of the great AI 05-032 Medicant Bias, ruler of the Ark!" The little bot seemed valiant in his proclamation.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." South complained.

"You are on a quest to find the Ark, are you not?" Ambiguous asked.

"We are, but what do you have to do with it?"

"I can get you there; my master is waiting for me there. He left me here after the others took that woman's body back to him."

"Wait, what woman? There was someone else here?"

"Yes, though I couldn't see her actual body. She was wearing a dark black suit of armor, like the warriors of old!"

"Agent Texas!" Delta exclaimed. "Agent Texas was the one with pure black armor. It must be her."

"Can you really take us to the Ark Ambiguous?"

"Madame, your quest shall be seen through to the end!" South really was in for an adventure.

--

Wash was a bit confused. He had been for a while. South's betrayal had shaken him up a bit. Having an AI in his head wasn't that pleasant of an experience either. Wash had never liked it. During Project Freelancer, the Agents had trained with different AIs, for training. They were substandard "dumb" AIs. They left the program before the Freelancer AIs could even be created.

The legends Wash had heard about Cortana were proving to be true. She was one of the smartest AIs he had ever met. Delta was in a close second, but Cortana was different. She was the first UNSC AI to go rampant and stay loyal to them. At least she hadn't lost her mind like Epsilon did.

Now, Wash stood at the foot of a giant hill of sand. He was following a lead with Cortana. They were on the Ark. Amazingly, it had survived the implosion of Installation 04 II at the end of the Halo Wars and still served as a fully functioning ringworld. The only difference is that it no longer had the ability to destroy all sentient life in the universe.

"Wash?"

"Yes, Cortana?" Wash answered her call.

"Who is the Agent we're looking for? I can't access her file. It's been locked down by the UNSC, almost as if she's gone rogue."

"She just may have. Tex always was a livewire."

--

My head felt like someone had taken a crowbar and used it to pry open my skull. It felt like someone then scooped out my brains and began sizzling them in a frying pan before they severed the medulla oblongata. I could feel the sizzles, seeping down my spinal cord. What the hell happened to me?

"Church?" a voice asked me. It was a voice that was higher than a normal man's. It seemed almost childish. Then I remembered who the voice belonged to. I groaned before I could stop him from speaking again.

"It's me, your all time best buddy!" Caboose said to me. We were still in Valhalla, and I had been shot by a sniper. I don't know how long I've been out. All I know is one thing, I was alive, I was still stuck in Valhalla, and I was still stranded with these stupid people I call comrades. My name is Cpt. Leonard L. Church of the Blue Army of Blood Gulch, and I am still alive after taking a bullet to the neck.

What. The. Fuck.


	4. My Name is Legion, and We Are Many

**Episode 204 – My Name is Legion, And We Are Many**

The Alpha AI. No one truly knows what the Alpha is; only that it had once existed. The Alpha was a powerful AI. It was classified as a smart AI by the UNSC, making its lifespan limited. The Alpha was given to Project Freelancer as its only AI, the original AI.

It was at Project Freelancer where the Alpha AI was nearly destroyed. The power mad Director fought with all his power to try to copy the Alpha Ai, as it was not enough for all his agents. When he realized that copying it was not an option, he resorted to…drastic measures. The Director began to torture the Alpha AI. He fought with it, as he would fight a human being. The Alpha went through torments that no human should have to endure, let alone an AI.

The Alpha did just what the Director predicted. During the torture, the Alpha's mind fractured. It sectioned off its mind into its different traits and feelings. Rage became the Omega AI, Deception became Gamma, Creativity became Sigma, Memories became Epsilon. The Alpha was used to create the Freelancer AIs, leaving it scarred and destroyed.

The Alpha was kept deep within the dark and dank recesses of the Freelancer Compound in a stasis chamber. Kept dormant, it was slowly rebuilt. All the traits that were stolen from the Alpha were replaced. The Alpha's memories however, were altered. It was given the memories of a trained UNSC soldier and kept for examination.

The revolt occurred three years after the Alpha was imprisoned in its make-shift cell. A group of rebellious Freelancers, angered by the revelations of truth behind the AI trials brought forth by the Oversight subcommittee's investigation, broke into Freelancer command and tried to rescue the Alpha AI. No records of the revolt were kept, as it was a failure. The participants were imprisoned for several months, being given enhanced memories as the Alpha was given. They forgot about the revolt and it was erased from history. Project Freelancer was suspended not much later.

No one knows what happened to the Alpha after the suspension of Project Freelancer. The records have been lost. The Freelancers never really considered what had really happened, as they were more interested in occupying their own time. The legend of the Alpha lied forever within the psyches of the remaining Freelancer AIs, lost to the humans, but not forgotten to them. The AIs held the memory of the Alpha with them, and it was their mission to find it.

This was the mission of the degraded, deranged, psychotic remains of the mind of the Meta, who walked his long road to salvation with the council of the AIs in his mind.

"It will be ours." Sigma told the Meta, almost caressing the fragile, shattered monster. "The Alpha will be ours."

"Who is our next target Theta?" asked Psi, who had come around to the mission not long ago.

"The next induction into our family will be the greatest of us all, the patriarch of the bunch, the strongest of the AIs."

"Who is it Theta?" asked Eta, the child AI, a product of the child-like feelings of the Alpha AI.

"Why it is our brother, Omega. He shall be the key to finding the Alpha, just you wait."

The Meta looked up at the moon above him, which reflected on the sand beneath him. He stared at the moon, embracing his primal urge, letting out a guttural howl, baying at the dark sun in the sky.

--

What is it with me and box canyons? Why the hell am I always trapped in them. In my entire career with the UNSC, I've only participated in one actual battle, the Fall of Reach; big motherfucking failure on the part of the UNSC. Reach was swarmed by a multitude of Covenant ships and the people were ambushed. The only reason I was there was because that was where I was stationed at the time. I'm lucky to be alive after the Covenant glassed Reach.

After I got away from the Battle of Reach, I was pulled away and stationed at Blood Gulch under Vic's supervision. Fucking prick he was. You pretty much know the story after that.

Valhalla wasn't much better than Blood Gulch. It had the same high walls enclosing us in and it had two bases on opposite sides. On the plus side, there's a waterfall at blue base that runs into a river and empties into a lake at red base. We didn't have anything like that at Blood Gulch.

My head still hurt like a bitch, it took me a second to realize who else was standing by my bedside. Caboose wasn't the only one who cared at least a little bit. Tucker sat in a chair next to me. Doc and Sister were there as well. Hell, even Grif, Simmons, and Donut were there. Sarge was nowhere in sight.

"What the fuck happened?" I asked.

"You were shot," Tucker explained. "I can't even believe you're still alive."

"How long have I been out?" Doc took this one.

"Well, the bullet caused significant trauma to your head. You were unconscious for an extremely long time."

"How long Doc." Damn, I've only been awake a few minutes and already I'm getting violent with my tone of voice.

"You've been in a coma for about three months." Doc said calmly, enthusiastically almost. I just about grabbed his neck and threw him against the wall.

"THREE MONTHS!! What the FUCK!? Are you kidding me!?"

"Now Church, it's not the big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal!? Are you retarded!? Who's been running the group while I've been gone?"

"You did leave a second in command."

"Second in command? Who did I leave second in comm.-" and then it hit me. Three months ago, I had done an act of random kindness to the soldier I could closest call a friend. I had promoted Caboose to Lieutenant. "Oh dear God." I mumbled.

"Don't worry Church," Caboose said, trying to consol me. It didn't work all that well, by the way. "I've taken good care of Val…um…Vulhella while you've been sleeping!"

"No you haven't!" Tucker yelled. "After Church got shot, you and Sarge started bickering about who should lead the team now. Sarge thought he outranked you because you couldn't pronounce your rank right."

"Loobtanent!" God damn it Caboose…

"What did Sarge do?" I asked.

"He turned this into a civil war of sorts." Simmons answered. "He's holed up in Red Base right now, waiting for 'those dirty, rotten, back-stabbin, lint-lickin, moron Blues'."

"What're you two doing here there?" Grif and Simmons stopped and took a moment to consider.

"Dude, going to war takes work." Grif stated. "When have I ever volunteered for manual labor? Especially for a guy whose main hobby is chasing me around with a gravity hammer for sport?"

"War also needs ammunition. Ammunition that Grif happens to have lost."

"How many times do we have to go over this, losing the bullets in the field and burying them in an unmarked place while I was sleepwalking are two totally different things!"

"Everybody shut up!" I yelled. For once they all obeyed me. So I asked the question that I was dying to get answered.

"Who shot me?" If I could see through their helmets, I may have been greeted with a sea of stupid faces. After over a minute of silence, I spoke once more. "You jackasses; I get fucking shot and none of you go looking for the person who did it!?"

"Well, last time you got shot, it wasn't that hard to find the guy who did it, we just had to avoid the shots the tank was firing at us to get to him!" Tucker was of course referring to the first time I had been shot at Blood Gulch…by Caboose…with a tank…whose main processing unit was still in Caboose's head! Why hadn't I thought of it before?

"Sheila? Sheila are you there?" Sheila, the tank-AI's voice filled the air around me.

"Good to see you are awake Church."

"Sheila, please tell me you know something."

"I don't know much more than they do. No one saw the shooter, but we suspect he fired at you from above the waterfall at the top of the ridge."

"And no one went after him?"

"Why would we go after the shooter!?" I remember that Brooklyn accent. It was Andy, the bomb AI, except, he wasn't in my head anymore. The sound was coming from Tucker's helmet now.

"Andy? You took Andy into your head?"

"He was safer in my head while you were in a coma."

"Yeah. You know Tucker's actually a pretty fun guy. You wouldn't believe some of the thoughts this guy has without you guys knowin."

"Okay, that's enough of you." Tucker must have hit the mute function of Andy because I didn't hear his voice after that.

"What about the Zealot," I suddenly asked. I had almost entirely forgotten about the red armored zealot who had arrived with O'malley and gary shortly before I was shot. "what happened to him?"

"That idiot and the grunt he was with ran off after you were shot." Simmons explained. "I think they found a way out of the canyon, because we haven't found a trace of them at all." Great, the dumbest soldier I have ever met has escaped with two of the most dangerous of the Freelancer AIs. This day just keeps getting better.

"Doc, am I well enough to get up now?"

"I guess so, just be careful. You may experience some dizziness, weakness, and or thoughts of suicide within the first few hours of consciousness."

"Thoughts of suicide!?"

"That's what it said on the side of the bag of meds we pumped into you after you got shot." Jesus Doc, why the hell are you still here? And for that matter, how in the hell did you get your medical license?

"What was your rank again Doc?"

"Medical Super Private, First Class."

"Well, now you're just a regular private, so suck it." I heard Doc swear a few times as I walked outside

--

"He's finally awake." said Medicant Bias. It had been three long months since Tex fired that single bullet. She had confined herself to her tent in the forest above the waterfall, throwing Medicant Bias out of her head and onto the ground. The ancient AI now laid in the mind of the other soldier; the one who had escaped Valhalla.

"Well, that seems like perfect timing." The Zealot said to himself.

"What are you saying, it's amazing timing!" O'Malley would take any excuse to contradict the Zealot. "With this new knowledge about the Alpha AI, that blundering buffoon is integral to our plans."

"You're blowing this out of proportion," Gary corrected the Rage AI. "we don't even know how important he is to the Freelancer program."

"Regardless, the Director wants him, so we do too."

"What about the beast we keep hearing of?" The Zealot asked the voices in his head.

"The Freelancer Hunter?" Gary asked. "I wouldn't worry about him all that much. We're on the Ark, you really think he can get to us here?"

"Anything is possible." Medicant Bias was right in this statement, but no one wanted to acknowledge it.

--

"Agent Texas?" Kapyal asked the self-exiled agent. She was unresponsive. Three months of wallowing in her own guilt had done that to her. She had gone over the event in her mind a thousand times. Why had she shot Church? What had happened? She was always paranoid that the AIs did nothing but poison the mind, so she threw away Medicant Bias from her mind and confined herself to a small tent she had made from supplies she had stolen from Red base while Sarge wasn't looking.

"What is it Kapyal?" she asked.

"Come outside. There's something I'd like you to see."

"I'm not coming out Kapyal. I know you're trying to help me and I appreciate that, but I'm not coming out."

"I think you'll like this surprise."

"What? Has the world come to an end yet? Or has it already ended and forgotten about me?"

"Tex…he's awake." Tex shot a glance back to Kapyal, her only real friend left alive. She jumped up from her place on the ground and ran outside. The Zealot was standing there at the waterfall. He was arguing with the others again.

"Look! I told you she'd wake up!" the Zealot announced.

"Ha!" O'Malley laughed. "I win the bet! Three to five months, that was my bid. Pay up Gary!"

"We're computer programs dumbass. We can't handle money."

"Blast!" Tex ignored the chattering of the AIs in the head of the soldier beside her. She looked out over the ridge, telescoping her helmet's sights onto the one person in the valley who could save her from the deep depression she was in. Tex was never so happy to have missed.

"Church…" she whispered. "You're alive!" These emotions had not entered into her mind for sometime. Project Freelancer had wiped them all away from her, replacing them with the strict directions of war. The memories of her and Church together had spurred so many emotions within her. She hated how she had treated him when they were together. All she wanted was to come down to the canyon and reunite with him.

But she knew she couldn't so that. She didn't go down to the valley. Tex stayed at the top of the ridge. She waited for Church to find her.

--

The sand turned to grass beneath the feet of the Meta. He growled at the exciting development in the plan.

"We're almost there." Sigma told his owner. "The Alpha will be ours."


	5. The United States of HOLY SHIT!

**Episode 205 – The United States of HOLY SHIT!**

How Agent South found her way into an abandoned aircraft hanger hidden in the depths of an arctic tundra being led by an insane little Forerunner AI bot, she will never know. But that is where she now stood. Ambiguous Guardian was floating before her, leading the way.

"An aircraft we can use to travel to my master's location is just up ahead." said the AI.

"What did you have in mind?" Agent South asked him.

"This facility was once used to store UNSC aircraft such as soldier transports like Pelicans and Hornets. I'm sure we can find a working model in this building."

"Why was this place abandoned?" Delta was quicker with and answer than Ambiguous was.

"There was a cave in at the exit tunnels. Six workers were killed and the UNSC could not reenter the building. They cut their losses and left the equipment here."

"Your little friend there has much knowledge about this world. Why is that?"

"I don't think that's any of your business." Delta told the Forerunner AI. Delta had been reluctant to associate with Ambiguous Guardian since he had met him. Time would not change his mind.

--

"He's been here. I know it." Agent Washington was standing at the peak of a tall hill of sand. There aren't many things that he stopped to appreciate, but the view he had from the top of the mound took his breath away.

The Ark was on oddity of the Halo Rings Array. The UNSC presumed that it was the only one of its kind, and was probably going to be used as refuge for when the rings fired. It offered plenty of space, but much of the Ark had become dark and desolate over time.

The UNSC had gone through the Ark once the Halo Wars had concluded. They set up several bases and named the different regions of the Ark. The area Wash now stood in had been rechristened as "Sandtrap" by the UNSC in 2556. From Wash's view point, Outpost 17-B was not far. In a more tropical and greener area a way off, Valhalla stood untouched by the sands that had destroyed this area, and covered the ruins of the ancient Forerunners.

"How do you know he was here?" Cortana asked Wash. He could barely believe the amount of curiosity the little AI had. She was always learning things, never stopping with questions. Wash wondered if Chief saw that in her.

"I don't. I just have this gut feeling that he's been here."

"You should trust your gut. John always does, and it always works out."

"John? You mean Master Chief?"

"Yes, I know, John isn't his famous name. But, I think I can call him that. He never stopped me."

"You two have an odd relationship."

"How so?" Cortana sounded offended in some way, but still held a curious tone.

"A UNSC AI getting that close to a human? It just seems a bit taboo to me."

"You still hold a grudge against AIs, don't you Wash?" Wash paused, remembering his experiences with Epsilon. He remembered the secrets Epsilon had shared with him. He remembered the true feeling of camaraderie when Epsilon begged Wash to kill him.

"I don't hate all AIs, just the Freelancer AIs. Once we find the…the Hunter, I may be able to find a way to bring this entire operation down around itself."

"The Meta." Cortana said.

"What? What did you say?"

"I've just intercepted an odd radio signal. The transmission is faint, but it is broadcasting. It sounds like voices, a lot of them. They just keep chanting the same thing over and over again. 'We are the Meta'. I think it's him!"

"Patch it into my helmet." Cortana forwarded the radio signal to Wash's helmet radio speakers.

"_We are the Meta. We are the Meta. We are the Meta. We are the Meta…We can seeeeee youuuuu_." Wash pulled up his gun and looked around the area. There was nothing, no one for several miles. Was Wash going crazy? Were the AIs messing with his head again? He wanted to know. Wash clicked on his radio to an open channel.

"This is Freelancer Agent Washington, a.k.a. Recovery-One broadcasting on an open channel. I don't know who you are, and I don't know what you want with us, but rest assured, I don't care what your name is Meta, I am going to KILL you! If that isn't ammunition enough to come at me with, let me be a little clearer. Come and get me!"

Silence was the answer offered to Wash as he stared out over the endless sandy plains. Complete and absolute silence. Cortana broke it.

"Wash, I know you're upset, but confirming a death wish to a serial killer upfront is a little dangerous don't you agree?" Wash knew she was right. He had to be careful. If the Meta got to Cortana, he would be more than powerful enough to take out all the rest of the Freelancers even if they did put up a fight.

"You're right. We have to go now. If we picked up his radio transmission, that means he must be close. We need to get to him before he gets to whatever his target is now."

"Right. Initiating tracing of radio signal." Cortana said.

"You took the words right outta my mouth."

--

I looked up at Red base. It was at the other side of the canyon at the edge of land and the beginning of the lake. It looked exactly like Blue base…except it possibly had a lower I.Q. level than even Blue base. Sarge was inside.

"No Lopez, I said you needed to tighten those bolts."

"Hice lo que me dijo que hacer." _I did just what you said. _Oh, just fuckin great. Now Lopez speaks Spanish again. I'm asleep for just a few months…

"Don't you give me backtalk Lopez; I can still harvest your limbs for spare parts if I wanted to."

"Usted está a viejo estúpido." _You're too dumb to do that old man._ I had to stop this.

"Sarge!" I yelled. That seemed to get his attention.

"Church! You're alive! Heavens to Betsy!" Heavens to what!? I really hate some of the shit that comes outta Sarge's mouth.

"Yeah, well, no thanks to you." I told him.

"What do you mean? I been holding down the fort till you woke up."

"Holding down the fort? Is that what you call taking Lopez and breaking him again after I specifically told you not to, fracturing this team under the belief that you are in command because you are smarter than anyone else here, and starting your own war against the only friends you have in this canyon?"

"Dangflabbit Church! I was just trying to help. What with Caboose and Simmons all to eager to assume their role as supreme leader of the Blood Gulch squadron, I had to take the reigns and settle this dispute. With everyone turned against me, their war would be averted."

"So you start one yourself?"

"It was the only logical thing to do!"

"Máte me por favor." _Kill me please. _At least his Spanish was better.

--

"What do you think we should do?" The Zealot asked Tex. She was standing beside him, watching over the canyon called Valhalla.

"Nothing." Tex replied. "We stay here and we do absolutely nothing."

"That is not a reasonable thing to do!" O'Malley yelled at his former owner. "It puts a monkey wrench in the gears of my plans!"

"Like I give a damn."

"But the intel said that-"

"Medicant, I'm warning you." Tex growled at the Forerunner AI.

"Hey," a voice said. It was Kapyal returning from his survey of the word. "did you guys hear that?"

"What?" Gary asked. "I didn't hear anything."

"Shh!" Kapyal shushed. "Listen." The group quieted down to listen for any sounds in the grass and trees. Seconds passed before a twig snapped. Tex raised her battle rifle and pulled on her helmet. Something was out there, and it wanted her. Either that, she thought, or O'Malley.

--

"They've heard us." Eta squealed in his childish tone.

"What should we do?" asked Theta.

"We attack." Sigma added. "Washington is close behind. We will attack them and take our brothers in arms. Long live the Meta!" The Meta growled and readied to pounce.

--

Wash looked around the area when he heard a twig snap in the woods. It wasn't his boot making the noise. Only grass lay beneath him. He raised his Battle Rifle.

"Did you hear that?" Cortana asked.

"I'm gonna take a guess and say that you're good at battlefield tactics." Wash asked the AI.

"To work with John, you have to be."

"Then help me coordinate my strategy. I think we found the Meta."


	6. We Are All Going To DIE!

**Episode 206 – We Are All Going To DIE!**

The sound of a fusion coil exploding caught my attention. It was quiet at first, but the exploding sound was soon accompanied by a high pitched screech. Sarge, Lopez, and I ran outside Red base to see what had happened.

"What in tarnation was that!?" Sarge yelled. What the fuck was tarnation? I honestly want to know these things!

"It sounded like someone was screaming." I said. I clicked on my radio to call Tucker. "Tucker, are you there? What's going on?"

"Did you guys hear that too!? Jesus Christ, that was loud!" Yes Tucker, that's exactly what I meant by 'what was going on'. The guys who could hear the sound from across the goddamn canyon needed to know that the sound was loud.

"Is there anything wrong?" I asked. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure. I think it came from the woods."

"The woods?" I asked. "You mean the ones above the canyon?"

"Yep, I think those are the ones." I was almost considering calling Caboose at that moment, but I didn't want to shoot myself so I resisted.

That's when another radio signal suddenly chimed into my helmet. I don't know why it came in so strong, but when it hit my helmet, I nearly went deaf from the sound of white noise suddenly blasting in my ear.

"Hello!?" the voice on the other end asked. "Is anyone there? This is Recovery One broadcasting on an open channel. This is a distress signal. My long-distance signals are being jammed. I cannot contact Recovery HQ. If there's anyone out there, I am under fire in the woods above Outpost 17-B a.k.a. Valhalla. I need reinforcements, now!"

I had several issues with this message. First of all, I hated the Freelancers. After the Halo Wars, the Freelancer program had been shamed and later reorganized as the Recovery program. Yes, I've lived in a canyon for the last few years, but that doesn't mean we don't get status reports every now and again. If Recovery Agents were involved in this, my policy would be avoidance.

Secondly, there's absolutely no way I am going to organize these idiots into an attack force against an unknown enemy. If this thing had a Recovery agent pinned down, I doubt we are going to help. Hell, we may even be a detriment to the guy.

Thirdly…aw, who cares? I knew I'd have to answer the damn message no matter how many griped I had with it.

"This is Captain Leonard L. Church of Blood Gulch Squad. What is your situation?" I said.

"Church?" the Recovery agent asked me. There were sounds of gunfire in the background, and I realized I could hear them in real life as well.

"Dude, what the fuck is going on?" Tucker asked me on the other line.

"Shut the fuck up Tucker!" God, he chooses now to care.

"Church is that you?" the Recovery agent asked me.

"Who is this?" I asked back.

"It's Washington. Tex introduced us when we were still in training."

I knew I knew that voice from somewhere! While Tex was still training for the Freelancer program, she had introduced me to a few of her comrades. Wyoming was first, and our relationship worked about as well as one between an ice cube and Lucifer would.

York was the second one I had met. York was one of the best guys I had ever known. He and his AI, Delta made a good pair. York had a real good sense of humor and wasn't afraid to crack a joke at any time. Delta was one of the smartest of the Freelancer AIs in my opinion. His logic gave him a very human quality.

Washington was the oddest case the Freelancer program had ever known. Wash's AI, Epsilon had gone insane in his head. Wash had been isolated in a holding cell for several months before the program would let him out. Before that, Wash was as much a carefree guy as York was; in fact, I recall them being the best of friends during training. But, I digress.

"We don't have time to reminisce." Wash said to me. "Church, I need help. I'm pinned down in the forest. Where are you?"

"You see the canyon below you?"

"Yeah."

"I'm at the base closest to the lake."

"I'm above you on the other side." I heard Wash rummaging around over the radio. He was probably dodging bullets, so I waited for him to respond."

"Are you alone?" Wash asked me when he finally got settled.

"I have a full team down here that I might be able to organize, but I can't promise anything."

"How many?" I suddenly considered just how many soldiers I DID have. Sarge has some battle field skill, so he counts as one. Lopez definitely counts, and I guess Simmons does as well. Tucker can be battle ready at times. Caboose, Grif, and Donut were wild cards and Doc and Sister would probably be too busy fucking to actually lift a gun. So that makes…um…

"Five and a half, give or take." I responded. I couldn't tell if Wash was busy or the silence on the line was his response.

"Can you get them up here?" he asked.

"I can try. How do we get up to the forest? I can't see any way out of the canyon."

"There's a tunnel system behind the waterfall. The UNSC logged it when they remodeled the place so I have it on my maps. I'll send it to you."

Wash sent me the file, which I studied. Jeez, this place has more secrets than I thought. I pushed the maps back to my memory banks and went out to round up my troops.

--

"Do you trust him?" Cortana asked Wash.

"Tex and he used to be involved with one another. I think I can trust him."

"Is he a good soldier." Wash recalled his past interactions with Church. Before Project Freelancer, Wash and York used to hang out with Tex and Church all the time. He always thought of Church as a friend, but that was years ago. York was dead now and Wash had nearly lost his mind during the AI trials.

"Church was a good man, but I don't know if he's a good soldier. If I recall the files we read about the incidents at Blood Gulch correctly, I can't really trust the others with him to be reliable soldiers."

Cortana didn't get a chance to ask another question. Her voice was drowned out by the sound of gunfire and grenades. Wash fired a few more rounds at the Meta, making the beast run back into the woods. Wash chased after it.

--

The Meta threw a bubble shield to the ground. The trees around him were adequate cover, but the bubble shield would definitely help him. Tex loomed before the Meta on the other side of the bubble.

"Hello Maine." Tex said, her rifle aimed square at his head through the bubble. The Meta only growled.

"It's good to see you Tex." Sigma said. "It's been such a very long time."

"I see you've left California Sigma." Tex said. "Who else is in there with you?"

"It's just me, Theta, Eta, Omicron, Zeta, and Psi. We've been looking for you Tex."

"I guess you're looking for Omega aren't you?"

"Did you happen to see him?" Omicron asked. "We need him."

"You'll never find him. I know you're looking for the Alpha, and without Omega and Gamma, the Alpha is lost."

"Gamma?" asked Eta. "You've seen Gamma! What a happy day." Damn! Tex thought. She hadn't meant to mention Gamma in front of Eta. The child-AI always had an odd attachment to Gary that Tex could never understand.

"Okay, you got me to talk. But, they are hidden. I left Omega long ago."

"Well, what a shame that is. I guess that means we have no use for you."

The Bubble shield suddenly failed at that moment. The Meta lunged his Brute shot at Tex, knocking her unconscious. The Meta didn't care if Tex was dead, all he knew was that she got the cloaking device during the AI trials. It was near worthless without Omega, but he figured he would find him soon enough.

--

The Zealot stood at a distance from Tex, hunched behind a tree. O'Malley and Gary whispered into his ears.

"I think you should go with him." O'Malley told him.

"What are you nuts!?" The Zealot asked him. "He just knocked Tex unconscious. I don't know anyone who can do that. I am NOT going with that thing."

"Don't worry about Agent Maine," said Gary. "The AIs are in his mind, controlling him. Maine is just following orders. He wants to help us."

"Bullshit!" Medicant Bias chimed in. "The Meta is looking for the Alpha AI. He wants to get all the AIs together to find it. We can't trust him."

Kapyal ran up behind The Zealot at this moment, making him jump in fear. The little grunt was more calmly collected that the Zealot and wasn't shaking as much.

"What's going on?" the grunt asked.

"The Meta just knocked out Tex." O'Malley replied. "He's taking her cloaking device, but she isn't dead. We're trying to decide what to do next."

"We should run. I heard the Freelancer agent talking to Church on his radio. They're all coming up here. We need to get out of here, now!"

"Those buffoons are of no danger to us."

"Tex told us to run if we were ever discovered. It was our plan! We need to go now!" Kapyal argued.

"It's up to you Zealot," Gary said. "what do we do?"

--

The tunnels behind the waterfall were pretty long. They were winding through the canyon, turning left and right, curling around and around. This gave me plenty of time to spend with these worthless idiots.

"Are we there yet?" Caboose asked me. How original.

"Where are we even going dude?" I was surprised Tucker even came along, so I can't be to angry that he was asking stupid questions.

"An old friend of mine needs help and he's above the canyon in the woods." I told the group.

"Why do we have to fight the Freelancer Hunter?" Grif wondered. "Isn't that kinda...retarded?" Hell, even I didn't know that. Why was I doing this? Wash was a good friend, but he was a Freelancer. I don't know, maybe I was just thinking about Tex when I agreed to this.

--

The Meta had gotten deeper into the woods within minutes of leaving Tex alone. O'Malley and Gamma were here somewhere. The sound of a magazine cracking into a rifle made him stop.

"Don't you move." Wash told the Meta. His Battle Rifle was trained directly on the Meta's head, ready to fire.

"Hello Wash." said Sigma. "I guess today is just a big reunion. First we meet Agent Texas, and now we meet you."

"Shut up Sigma. I don't care how many of you are in there, you are coming with me. You are wanted for multiple counts of murder and thievery."

"You think the UNSC's rule of law will stop us?" Omicron asked.

"It will take more than that to stop us." added Eta. The Meta growled once more before utilizing its newfound piece of equipment and fading away into the darkness. Wash stood aghast at the disappearance of the Meta, not knowing exactly what had just happened.

--

Wash was waiting for us when we emerged into the forest above Valhalla. He had his helmet off, brushing sweat off his forehead. Wash was a bit older than me, maybe by a few years and e had signs of grey hair growing. There were bags under his eyes, indicating he had been awake for more than a little while. There was alos a small scar on his forehead, probably from the incident with Epsilon.

"Church?" he said when he caught sight of me. "It's about time."

"Those tunnels were long man!"

"Who is this guy?" Simmons asked. But I wasn't listening. I was looking around the area. There was a small tent on the ground behind Wash. A small fire had once been burning outside the makeshift camp a few hours ago, but by now was a pile of smoldering ash.

However, neither of these things interested me. I was more interested in the being lying on the ground beside the fire site. Clad in black armor, a soldier laid on the ground.

"Tex…?" and then I fainted.


	7. Documents of SPARTAN Agent Hollis232

**Episode 207 – From the Documents of SPARTAN Agent Hollis-232**

--_Yes, I know. What is this? This isn't Red Vs Blue! This is more like _Ghosts of Onyx._ Have you lost your mind? I'm not wasting my time on this! Well, I can assure you; this new chapter has something to do with my Red Vs Blue story arc. In this chapter, I have replaced Church as the narrator (only for this chapter, I promise) and we are given a new narrator in former SPARTAN II officer Hollis-232. Please enjoy and please understand, this idea will provide information for the story. I hope you like it!—_

My name is Hollis-232. I am an alumnus of the SPARTAN-II program. The following is an account of my experiences with the Freelancer Program. These documents were classified above tops secret on orders of the Director of Project Freelancer

--

The Director of Project Freelancer was a towering man holding a large presence in any room he stood in. I couldn't really place his accent, but it sounded southern. His face always bore a bit of stubble, like he hadn't shaved for a few days.

The Director struck me as a man bearing a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. He had a serious demeanor and he really cared about his soldiers, but at the same time was ready to sacrifice them for the greater good. His understanding of good and evil had a serious influence on his management of the Freelancers, and for that I respected him.

The Freelancer program was approved by the UNSC Oversight Subcommittee Chairman three months ago. Since then, The Director had recruited his agents into the program. Never had I seen such a multitude of ready and willing soldiers volunteer for something like this. The Director went through a small army of soldiers before selecting his agents.

Imagine my surprise when the infamous Colonel James Ackerson called on me to head the Freelancer program. I had been called into the secret meeting room onboard the UNSC Point of No Return known as Odin's Eye. He told me that he needed a SPARTAN soldier to oversee the activities of the Freelancer program. Odin's Eye is also where I met the Director of Project Freelancer. Even then he towered over me.

Two months later, I met with the first bunch of the Freelancer Agents I would meet in the subsequent years. We met at Freelancer central on a base the Director had nicknamed "Standoff". One agent that I vividly remembered meeting was named Linus Mason, one of many to come.

--

"How are you feeling Linus?" I asked him. We were in an interview room. Linus hadn't been issued his armor yet and he was dressed in the standard issue Freelancer common wear that comprised of a tan jumpsuit with the program's triplicate emblem.

"I've been better." Linus scratched his eye. It had been replaced with a cybernetic eye after a small training mishap. The AI that had caused it was being repaired at that moment. Once it was fixed, the AI would later be distributed to the Freelancer who best displayed the abilities to handle it.

"How's the eye?" I asked.

"It still hurts when I read." I'd be sure to log that.

"Well Linus, as you know, I'm here to give you your performance review. This review will determine your placement in the upcoming AI trials as well as your equipment assignment with it."

"Let's do this. How've I been doing?" Linus seemed like a fun loving sarcastic man, but he still held a serious demeanor about him. I had no doubts that he was as furious in battle as he was carefree in his social life.

"In battle you've received several medals for your service to the UNSC. You earned three purple hearts in The Battle of the Apex, and two more in the Battle of Jericho VII. But, what you lack in bullet dodging skill you make up for in kill rate. You're an extremely talented marksman and, may I say, a skilled locksmith. Never have I seen anyone perpetrate a stealth operation so easily."

"Is that a good thing?" Linus asked me finally.

"Yes, it is a very good thing." I told him. "According to your records, you are the perfect choice for our program. You are experienced enough and skilled enough to bear the Freelancer Triplicate Badge. Welcome to the program." Linus smiled.

"Where do I go from here?" he asked me.

"Tomorrow you will be issued your next orders and your AI trial assignment papers. You will also be given a new codename. You will never answer to your real name again. Your past is gone, forget it all. From now on, you shall no longer be known as Linus Mason, that man went MIA during the Battle of New Harmony. He was awarded a final Purple Heart for his service."

"So what will my name be then?" I looked down at the list of names I hadn't assigned yet.

"Your codename will be designated as Agent New York."

"Then call me York." I was beginning to like York.

--

Over the next few weeks I interviewed hundreds of soldiers, all of them eager to join the program. Some were easier to deal with than others. I believed my choices were justified though. There was only one that I was wary about. Keith Cross was my choice for the helm of Agent Maine. Cross was a veteran of more than a few battles of the Halo Wars. He was eighteen during, and therefore eligible to fight in, the First Battle of Harvest. Since then he had participated in nearly every battle since. Even though his service was distinguished, Cross gave me the impression that something was amiss in his mind.

An incident in the training room heightened my suspicions. Late one day, a few of the agents I kept in my personal squad were in a virtual reality training room. The VR training was an easier way to train the soldiers in situations few though possible. But, in my experience, there is no reason to be under prepared. When I got to the training room, medical operatives were wheeling one of my agents out, Agent Nevada. Maine was being restrained by the others.

"What the hell is going on here!?" I yelled. York came forward first.

"Captain, thank god…we don't really know what happened. We were just running some stealth ops. Maine failed the missions by charging in and startling the Covenant holograms and then he and Nevada started fighting."

"Over what?" I asked.

"Battlefield tactics." I should have guessed that. Nevada was a perfectionist. He always needed to do everything at 100% efficiency or not at all. He would be the first to protest a failed mission in VR.

"Pick him up." I told my men. Around Agent Maine was my special squad. The members of my team consisted of Agents Wyoming, Texas, York, Maine, Nevada, and Washington. They were some of the greatest soldiers in the program and it was my honor to work with them.

Maine was always the largest of the group. His stamina was never matched in the history of the program, not once. This afforded Maine one of the biggest advantage/disadvantages of them all, a penchant for large firearms. His weapon of choice was a brute shot, a fact that both impressed and frightened me.

"What were you thinking Agent Maine, hurting a fellow officer? What was running through your head?" Maine didn't respond to me at first. I grasped at his neck and ripped off his helmet. Maine face was hardened with anger and his jet black hair was slicked back with a mixture of sweat and grease. His eyes were blackened with rage.

"I asked you a question soldier! What were you thinking!?" Maine still didn't respond. His face just tightened at the appearance of a slight smile. A chuckle came after it and he began to look like a madman. I turned to Agent Washington, who was standing at my side.

"Take him too solitary. A week's punishment may lighten him up." This is when Maine suddenly came to life. He began screaming and yelling. No discernable words were in his speech, only primal rage overtook his outburst. He was dragged kicking and screaming to his solitary cell by Washington and Texas. Maine was transferred to the personal care of the Director of Project Freelancer after that. I never saw Maine again after that day.

--

The Halo Wars still raged on. The Freelancers were my shining hope in the darkness of war. By my side stood Freelancer Agent York, the best of them all in my opinion. York was the most loyal of them all. His AI, Delta was a testament to that. Delta was the smartest AI I had ever met. Even my personal AI Gaia wasn't as logical as Delta. York was lucky to have him.

"What's the update York?" I asked him.

"Maine disappeared." He told me. I gave him a surprised look, causing him to explain. "We were running an op. ONI gave us orders that said that it was a simple Recovery mission; that another Freelancer was injured and we were assigned to save him."

"Who was it?"

"Nevada." Shit, I thought.

"That couldn't have gone well."

"It was me, Maine, South, and Tex. The threat was minor; a couple of Grunts and a few Elites had captured Nevada on a routine intel gathering mission. We go in take out the threat and liberate Nevada. All of a sudden, Maine goes apeshit. We don't know what the hell's going on. He throws down a plasma grenade and the next thing you know, he and Nevada are gone, _poof_!"

Maine was a wildcard, but never had I expected something like this.

"Why was Maine even with you?" I asked. "Last I heard he was on personal business with the Director; got his Triplicate pulled."

"Special assignment." York said. "Hell, I nearly killed him myself, the mute bastard."

"He still isn't talking?"

"I think it's his AI." Delta added. "I never felt safe around Eta."

"You think Eta has corrupted his mind?" I asked.

"With what happened to Wash, I don't doubt it." The Epsilon incident was only a few months before. Wash was still in recovery. Had he not been in therapy, he might've been with York and maybe this event could've been averted.

--

Maine and Nevada were never found. No remains were ever recovered. No equipment was ever returned. They were gone. Maine was officially classified as MIA and a Section Eight was put on his record. Section Eight is UNSC code for 'military discharge due to mental illness or instability'. Nevada was classified as a POW, thought to have gone missing during combat. I nearly cried.

York stayed by my side throughout it all. Tex was sectioned away from the program, The Director gave her her discharge papers and sent her away. I never saw her again. Wash remained in therapy for the rest of the project's duration. I'm not sure what happened to most of my soldiers during those final years.

August 30, 2552. The Fall of Reach. The remains of the Freelancer program went into battle. We lost a lot of good men that day. It was the last day I saw many of my men. York and I were the only ones to escape out of the four agents I had taken with me. We were half way back to Earth on a small Covenant Phantom that we had commandeered from a group of Grunts who now laid on the ground of Reach awaiting to be glassed with our brothers in arms.

"We're leaving Hollis." York told me.

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"The Freelancer program is finished." Delta added. "Two days ago, I intercepted a radio transmission from the Chairman of the Oversight Subcommittee in charge of the Project. He plans to bring the Director, the Receiver, and the Councilor up on charges. The Project is ended."

"No one told me." I whispered in disgrace. "Where will you go?"

"We have a safe house back on Earth in Mombasa." York said. "We plan to live as civilians and hide out. This war is tiring."

"Come with us Hollis." Delta told me. The emotions that phrase triggered within me were varied. I felt a range of sadness at the loss of my friend, but flattery in that he had asked me to join him. York was the closest thing I had to a friend, but I knew I couldn't join him.

--

That was the end for me. Project Freelancer was disbanded and the soldiers remaining alive were left to their own devices. Maine and Nevada were still missing. Texas was left alone. Last I heard she was working an undercover op trying to recover the rogue AIs that were created during the AI trials.

York really did move to Mombasa. I met him only once more after that night in August. It was during the Second Battle of Earth, more specifically the Battle of Voi. York had gotten a job working in the factories at Voi after New Mombasa's destruction during the First Battle of Earth.

I was working in conjunction with Master Chief at the battle. After he and the Arbiter had taken down the Scarab tanks the Covenant attacked us with, I ran into a storage warehouse with a squad of marines. York was in the warehouse. He was unarmed.

York hadn't changed. He was using his real name again though, as evidenced by the name on his worker's jumpsuit. He had cut his hair and dyed it blonde. I noticed a small wrist computer on his arm, most likely concealing Delta's existence.

We exchanged no words during the battle. Instead, when I breached the warehouse and noticed York, we exchanged a glance of acknowledgement. I stared directly at York and did several hand gestures from the Spartan Battlefield Language, which translated would mean 'Get out now.' York nodded. I tossed him a loaded Magnum on his way out. And then he was gone.

--

"Is this where they end?" The Chairman asked once he had finished reading the file he had been provided earlier. The Director sat across from him.

"The rest of Hollis's records were lost after Project Freelancer was shut down. We're lucky we recovered that last entry. Consider yourself lucky you were able to read it. Hollis went MIA after the Battle of Installation 00."

"You think this satiates my thirst for knowledge about your program? You were corrupt before and I don't believe something like that can change as quickly as you say you have. The Recovery program is nothing but a retooled Freelancer Project."

"Mister Chairman," said the Director. "I resent that."

"Then how do you justify your actions during the Freelancer program, my dear Director?"

"I believe that it is a fundamental quality of man, that when faced with extinction, every alternative is preferable…my dear Chairman."


End file.
